Unlucky In Love
by PenelopePenniworth
Summary: Ian was ready to drop everything and run away with the love of his life. Margaritas, beach, love-what's there not to like? It looked so easy in the movies, but this was real life.  Life was never easy. He couldn't leave. Now, he had to deal with the aftermath of his attempted escape from life for love.


_**A/N:** Omg, I can't remember the last time I used "A/N". It's been at least six to seven years since my last published story...since I last wrote in general. I've already started a couple full fiction stories, but some have one page, other have a couple chapters. I haven't gotten past 4 chapters yet, haha. I'm easing my way back in. Since I have caught up with Shameless (literally started less than a month ago-I'm addicted) and they are currently working on the 8th season (and I have still yet to watch the last episode of Season 7 after Mickey left because I emotionally cannot handle anymore), I have nothing to keep that Shameless fire alive (no pun intended). There aren't a lot of Gallavich fanfiction (SHOCKING-like why not?), so I decided to add on to the mix. I actually liked writing this one and it surprisingly just rolled right out of my fingers onto the computer. I hope you all enjoy! I am a fan of angst. :3_

 _I have yet to decide if I want to add another part to this oneshot though, but right now, it is complete._

* * *

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four...

 _"Hi, you've reached Trevor. You know what to do."_

Trevor's automated message emerged through the speaker and Ian sighed, slumping further into the couch in the Gallagher home. This still took some getting used to-the couch, not Trevor. It was new and now dark brown leather. Fiona was doing some redecorating with her newfound fortune, getting rid of all the smelly, old, and possibly rotting, furniture.

Having purchased the house entirely, she had started off with the kitchen, so they had gotten a new fridge, fixed the cabinets that were damaged and falling apart, which just meant entirely new cabinets for the entire kitchen, and new stainless steel appliances. She got rid of the wallpaper that covered the kitchen walls herself and painted them a soft bone-white color. It made the kitchen look a lot bigger and cleaner than it initially was and a lot more like a real kitchen you see on HGTV (or at least more than it did before). And this was just pocket change for her.

Fiona had been getting more into the business purchasing and renovating mogul lifestyle, buying old homes and renovating them to sell for more. It seemed that she had found her niche and it was working outstandingly for her, surprisingly. So, here was the historical Gallagher home-first floor getting to be looking remarkably different and then she was going to work on the second floor. The rest of the family stood idly by, watching her do all this and not much could really be said to stop her.

To the rest of the family-being just Ian, Lip, and Liam-it was sad that they were losing all the things that made the Gallagher's home their home. A change had to come eventually-that was inevitable, of course.

"Trevor's still not picking up?" asked Fiona, words muffled due to the pencil that was sitting between her lips. She had strolled into the living room with blueprints of another building in her hands, taking a seat on the leather couch. He had been doing this all week now.

"No..." Ian sighed again as he looked down at his call log. Four days and twenty calls later and Trevor wouldn't make contact with him.

"Well, can you blame him? You did try to run away with Mickey."

"But Trevor doesn't know that." That couldn't have been the reason. Trevor didn't know that Ian had spontaneously packed his bookbag, hopped in an SUV with an escaped convict, had sex with this escaped convict (many, many times)-all in running away to Mexico as an act of uncontrollable, passionate love.

"You were gone for over two days, Ian... Did you contact him at all during that time?" Ian stayed quiet. Oh. "Yeah. There you go. You knew how he felt about Mickey escaping and then you disappear for two days without letting anyone know-which I still don't forgive you for, by the way." She emphasized her point by punching Ian in the thigh. Hard.

With a yelp and curse, he cradled his abused limb, rubbing out the pain.

"Jesus, Fiona-I'm sorry! I can't think straight when I'm around him..."

"It's a good fucking thing you didn't go through with Mexico then. I wouldn't be around to bail you out." Fiona, being a great big sister that she was, rolled her eyes before they settled back on the prints that sat on the coffee table. "And the person isn't me that you should be apologizing to."

"Yeah, I know..."

Ian bit his lip, looking down at his phone, which he hoped would ring with Trevor's face decorating the screen at this moment. Unfortunately, it didn't.

All he had to do was push the door open. A pretty simple and innate task was the most difficult feat Ian could attempt at that moment. He had done this so many times already, but the last time he actually did was a week ago. He hadn't visited Trevor at his teen outreach center since he last brought over a Shake Shack meal he had been hoping they could share for lunch, but Trevor had to handle teen outreach business and took his to go. That was also the last time he actually saw Trevor as well. They weren't doing this whole boyfriend thing very well-or more so Ian wasn't doing it very well.

The door suddenly flew open and one of the teens almost ran Ian over, seeming to leave the building in a hurry.

"Oh, hey, Ian! Haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey, Le'trell. Yeah, I've been...kinda busy."

"Ah," The teen nodded. "Well, I gotta head out, but Trevor's in the counseling corner."

"Oh, he must be busy. I can come back another time."

"Naw. We just finished a group session. He's just cleaning up. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." He smiled before stepping aside for Ian to continue on through. It took a couple seconds for his feet to move, but he finally did. Would Trevor really be happy to see him?

Ian didn't have the time to answer that question before his feet had taken him in front of a huddle of yellow chairs-the type of yellow chairs that you don't normally see outside of grammar school classrooms. Trevor was arranging them in a neat circle, not noticing his boyfriend whatever standing there. His eyebrows were furrowed, forehead creased, as if he was deep in thought, which he probably was seeing as he wasn't looking directly at the chairs he was working on. Yet, they were still arranged in a perfect circle.

Should he walk up to him? Tap his shoulder? Disrupt him?

Trevor had then picked up his clipboard, turning around. His widened eyes that met Ian's green ones soon turned into slits as his thin lips formed an upside-down crescent shape causing a chill in Ian's spine. Trevor pushed past him, almost knocking him off his feet, without a single word. Oh, he was pissed, alright.

"Trevor," Ian called out, but he kept walking. Ian hurried up to him, grabbing his arm. Trevor snatched it away, stepping back. "Trev-"

"What do you want?" The flat tone of his voice caused Ian's heart rate to spike. He hadn't seen him angry since their whole debacle regarding his pre-transformation ID, but even then he was showing some kind of emotion. Now, there was nothing. He must have really fucked up.

"I want you to talk to me!" Ian replied just under his breath. There were too many kids around and he didn't want to cause a scene. "You've been avoiding my calls for days."

"Wasn't that what you were doing to me?"

"I- I wasn't trying to. I'm sorry. It had been crazy couple days and you were busy-we just kept missing each other."

"You knew what I was doing. I kept telling you. So, what were you doing?"

"I- Nothing. It's not important right now."

"Really? If it wasn't important, that doesn't make you avoiding my calls and texts any better. Remember how we were supposed to meet up after work that day you got me Shake Shack? Yeah, I was waiting and you never showed up. No calls, no texts-nothing. And then you text me a day after with 'U okay?' Really, Ian? No, I wasn't fucking okay. How can anyone be when their boyfriend is out doing whatever the fuck with their ex-boyfriend?"

Shit.

Ian was wide-eyed and couldn't utter a single word. What could he say? How did he find out?

Trevor chuckled. "Wow, you're not even going to try to deny it."

"I- I...How did you know?"

"It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out." Trevor's gaze stayed fixated on Ian's, who now couldn't look away. He was trapped. It was Trevor who broke it when he rolled his eyes before turning on his heel, heading in the direction of his office.

Ian hurried after him again, snapping out of his shock as soon as he heard the door slam shut. So much for not causing a scene.

"Trevor-"

"All you had to do was talk to me," Trevor continued, setting his clipboard down on the table with a force that shook its little legs. Apparently, he was still not done with ripping Ian a new one. "I would've understood. I would've been pissed as all hell, but I still would have understood. You guys have history-a really crazy one at that, obviously, so I can see how would still need that closure. But, to disappear for days to see him? After he had escaped from prison too? Like-what the _fuck_ , Ian? I even _asked_ you if he would try to look for you-countless times-and what did you tell me?"

"Trevor..."

" _What_...did you tell me?"

"That even if he did, I didn't want that life back..."

Hearing that answer, he threw his hands in the air, letting them fall to his sides. "So, what the fuck happened?"

"I know. I don't know. I'm sorry! I don't know how many times I can apologize, if that would even ever be enough."

Trevor shook his head, rubbing his temples with his three longer fingers, before he ran them through his hair, letting out a sharp breath. He fell back into his wooden desk chair. "God! I can't believe I let myself fall in love with you."

"Y-You what?" A jolt struck the left part of Ian's chest. The air around him started to get thinner as the seconds passed.

Continuing to ignore his comments, Trevor followed up with a question Ian expected was to be asked eventually, but had hoped he never would have to answer. "Did you fuck him?"

"What?" The question was heard loud and clear, but Ian could barely control anything that came out of his mouth at this point since he couldn't think clearly.

"Did you... _fuck_...Mickey?" Trevor asked again, enunciating each individual word.

"Trevor, come-"

"I know my own fucking name, Ian, in the last twenty times you've said it! Answer...the fucking question!" Trevor roared, causing Ian to take a step back. The room must have subtly started to spin or something because Ian couldn't keep his stance. What was happening right now? He felt his heart drop and shatter into a million pieces upon contact of the ice cold surface that was his soul. He had to have a soul of ice if he could do what he did to Trevor without a second thought. He'd never been caught so off-guard.

"Y-Yes..." Ian whispered. He could barely get himself to admit it.

"What?"

"Yes," He repeated just a little louder, "We fucked..."

Trevor chuckled again. Nothing was funny about this moment even though Ian wanted this to be a huge prank. He hoped for Ashton Kutcher to come out with his camera and yell "You got punk'd!" But, of course that wouldn't happen. Not in a Gallagher's lifetime. This was probably the biggest, record-breaking "fuck you" he could ever receive.

Ian couldn't even get himself to look at Trevor now until he had said something that he couldn't understand. It was so low that he had to actually look up in hopes he would repeat himself. And, thankfully, or unfortunately in this case, he did.

"I said get out! Get the fuck out!" Trevor yelled, his voice losing the deepness it previously had as it cracked , and Ian quickly dodged the incoming notebook that was flung at him. That was his cue to go-he couldn't make any of this any better now. Not like he could have in the first place.

Ian hurriedly felt for the doorknob behind him before another item could be chucked at him, welcoming the cold accessory to his sweaty palms, and slipped out of the room. He was met with widened eyes and gaping mouths of the teens (some using their hands as cover) and shot a short, quick smile to them before scampering out the door with the image of tears rolling down Trevor's cheeks in his mind-something he had never seen for as long as he'd known him and something he had regretted he ever caused.

His world was falling apart. Again. Just when he thought he had gotten a handle on it. Just when he thought everything was better, now that he had Trevor in his life. Time and time again-it never failed.


End file.
